


it's a game of chance and opportunities

by kaneki_coffee



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Faerie AU, M/M, Magic, Witch AU, makki has panic attacks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-05
Updated: 2016-04-05
Packaged: 2018-05-31 09:31:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6465004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaneki_coffee/pseuds/kaneki_coffee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You didn’t need magic for many things, Hanamaki had learned. But that hadn’t stopped him from trying to unlock his.</p><p>“It’s there,” Oikawa had said dismissively one winter day as they explored the caverns, hoping to spot a hibernating bear. “Anyone with magic can see. It’s twisted and gnarled like thorny vines in your veins, a forest of golden magic in your own body. You just need to tap it.”</p><p>“But how?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	it's a game of chance and opportunities

**Author's Note:**

> Important to note: 
> 
> Hanamaki is an alchemist with sealed magic.  
> Oikawa is talented in wind and spatial magic. That means he can fly and also teleport.  
> Matsukawa is talented in solely nature magic, such as controlling plants.  
> Iwaizumi is a human who wandered into the forest when he was young and met Oikawa. He lives in a neighboring village as a doctor, but visits the forest often.

**[beginning of winter]**

 

Hanamaki fell to his knees and wiped the sweat away from his forehead, leaving behind streaks of red dirt in its stead. He had spent the last hour combing the forest for mushrooms and had finally dug out the last few he needed. His supplies would be well stocked before the cold winds swept down from the mountains and buried the forest in a blanket of ice and snow. It had taken weeks to find everything, though. 

Groaning, Hanamaki crawled to his feet and leaned against a tree, shaking the clinging dirt and moss from his cloak. He was careful not to jostle the leather satchel hanging from his shoulder. It was packed tightly with ingredients and if a few of the glass jars were to break and mix contents, the result would be…not pretty. Accidents were almost always fatal to alchemists. He had known far too many who had met their end via toxic gasses or even explosions. Being _careful_ only kept you safe so much. You had to be smart. Paranoid, even. Hanamaki’s hands were pockmarked with chemical burns and he had even singed his eyebrows off when he was an apprentice, but his mistakes kept him smart and wary. They were constant reminders of what could happen, what _would_ happen. 

“You can’t ever be too careful,” chimed a young Oikawa’s nagging voice, a stray memory drifting to the front of Hanamaki’s mind. “One day something bad will happen.” He had stated it as a fact. As confident in his prediction as he was of his magic. He had been unbearable that day, Hanamaki remembered. Circling lazily in the air around Hanamaki’s head, occasionally sending bursts of wind to buffet his friend’s face and laughing if he jerked back. “A total accident, of course, but it’ll be bad,” he had continued, voice serious despite his lazy floating. “What will you do then?”

“I’ll die,” Hanamaki had responded simply, his gaze focused on the worktable in front if him. But he had also tipped Oikawa into the river just to prove him wrong. You didn’t need magic to kick Oikawa off his pedestal. You didn’t need magic for many things, Hanamaki had learned. 

But that hadn’t stopped him from trying to unlock his. “It’s there,” Oikawa had said dismissively one winter day as they explored the caverns, hoping to spot a hibernating bear. “Anyone with magic can see. It’s twisted and gnarled like thorny vines in your veins, a forest of golden magic in your own body. You just need to tap it.”

“But how?”

Oikawa had shrugged. “Find your center. Haven’t you noticed anything? A toxic flower with enough poison to kill five men merely gives you a rash. A sleep drought that knocks me out cold causes you to _maybe_ yawn. I mean, even the fae can’t get enough of your potions.” Oikawa had rolled his eyes at that point. “Which by the way, you need to stop just handing over. One day they’re going to try to take you to their world and then I’ll just have that human Iwa-chan to impress.”

Hanamaki had snorted. “Highly unlikely. The faeries hate us.” 

“They hate _me_ ,” Oikawa had squealed, “because I won’t let them near you! They love you to bits! Stop leaving them milk, they won’t leave your doorstep!”

“Oikawa. My magic.”

Oikawa had made a face, his hopes of successfully distracting Hanamaki dashed. “The magic is there, Makki. You just need to find it.” 

“But _how_?” Hanamaki had asked persistently. 

“Just breathe! Clear your mind. Shove your will into whatever you’re doing. Direct it. The rest happens like magic.” He had giggled as Hanamaki threw a rock at him, easily deflecting it with a gust of icy wind.

Oikawa hadn’t spoken of it again, but Hanamaki had never forgotten. He felt broken without magic. What kind of witch was he without it? 

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he turned to face the tree he had been leaning against. He always suspected that this marshy area didn’t have hundreds of trees, but just one. The mother tree with a massive sprawling network of roots, connected deep beneath the earth and hidden from sight. It was Hanamaki’s favorite spot of the forest, for obvious reasons that he never revealed in fear of being teased. It’s life force ran beneath the surface, untapped, untouched. Like his magic. He slowly placed a splayed hand against the tree trunk, its bark rough against the palm of his hand. He imagined the life coursing through its every leaf and root, spiralling out to the trees surrounding it. 

A deep breath. (The same measured breath he had taken thousands of times before.)

A calm mind. (Meditation since the age of twelve had taught him well.)

A shove of will, coursing from his outstretched hand directly into the tree like a bolt of lightning. _Do something!_ Hanamaki screamed in frustration, open hand curling into a fist. _Listen to me!_

And then, something inside his mind softly clicked, like a key turning in a lock.

A surge of energy pulled from the pit of his stomach, years of growing magic with no escape suddenly ripping out of his body and leaving him numb. He stared at the blackening bark beneath his hand in disbelief before a wave of power dropped him to his hands and knees. He retched, feeling the grass and moss beneath him greedily sap his energy, drawing it from his body. 

His bag rested beside him on the ground, its contents carelessly tossed across the ground. Broken glass shone in the dim light.

_One day something bad will happen,_ the memory sneered. _A total accident, of course, but it’ll be bad. What will you do then?_

_I’ll die,_ his childish voice mocked as a surge of darkness overwhelmed him. He let it happen, accepted it with cowardly open arms. He was scared. He didn’t want to die like this, but if he had to…at least he wouldn’t be awake to feel his lungs give out, his pounding heart slow down to a stop.

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

“How is he?”

“He’ll survive. He will.”

A sigh of relief. “Good. And the other?”

“I’m doing all I can, Tooru. Sometimes that isn’t enough.”

“We’ll make it enough, Hajime,” Oikawa’s voice snapped in return. 

Something cold was placed on Hanamaki’s forehead. He felt like he was burning alive. His lips were cracked, his skin dry. Something was different. He thought he knew what he needed, the drought was in his bag, it always was, but he couldn’t pull himself upright. He couldn’t open his eyes. He was frozen, unable to move. A whimper escaped his closed mouth, bringing a pause to the conversation he could overhear.

“…He’s awake. That’s good.”

“When do we tell him?”

“Tell him what, Hajime? He doesn’t need to know yet. If it was up to me, he never would.”

Iwaizumi shuffled closer and a bed creaked softly as he sat down. “That’s not up to you. He has to learn. He wasn’t the only one in danger out there.”

“I know that. I warned him about it. I always did. But he always kept trying. I would’ve done more, but…I couldn’t help but think, what if that was me? What if I had my magic locked away like that? I would rather die.”

“He almost did.”

“I know that! You think I don’t? You think I don’t care?”

“Tooru!” Iwaizumi snapped. “I never said that. Raising your voice won’t help them now.”

Oikawa sniffed. “I almost lost him. I’ve known him longer than I’ve even known you.”

“He’ll recover. He will.”

“But will _he_ be okay?”

“I don’t know,” Iwaizumi whispered. 

Oikawa’s long fingers carded lightly through Hanamaki’s cropped hair. “It’s all gone, you know. I can’t see anything. He’s…empty.”

Iwaizumi whispered something in reply but Hanamaki didn’t hear. He drifted back out of consciousness.

 

 

* * *

**[spring]**

 

“This is _not_ a good idea,” Hanamaki declared, planting the butt of his staff firmly on the ground and swaying to a halt. His eyes were wide in alarm as he dug his heels into the earthy forest floor beneath their feet. “There is no way in hell you can get me into that house.”

“Technically, it’s a tree,” Oikawa corrected cheerfully as he propelled Hanamaki forward against his will. “ _My_ tree. My treehouse! And you are going in, whether you like it or not.”

“No,” Hanamaki hissed. He spun around and jabbed the end of his staff into Oikawa’s side with a glare, putting distance between them. “I am _not_. Why are we even here? I have better things to do.”

“First of all, ouch. My house isn’t that bad. It’s a nice neighborhood, and the faeries don’t even pull that many pranks.”

“Yeah, because _I_ taught you the recipe to the cream they like.”

“And I’m so thankful! I was tired of waking up with blue hair. But you’ve been running away,” Oikawa needled pointedly with a smug, shit-eating grin, “and this isn’t something you can ignore anymore.”

Hanamaki flashed a pleasant smile that turned cold, and he jabbed his staff a little harder. “Get out of my way so I can get back to work, or _I_ will give you blue hair.”

Oikawa clicked his tongue, a pout on his face. “Someone’s touchy,” he chided. “You just got off bedrest, why are you working already? Iwa-chan said you needed to take it easy.”

“ _You’re_ going to be taking it easy if you keep this up,” Hanamaki threatened darkly, his hand falling to the leather satchel hanging over his hip. An array of different plants and mushrooms wadded neatly into the bag was just barely visible beneath his fingertips. “Move.”

“Oh, come on, Makki,” Oikawa said, his voice light but full of warning. His hand darted to Hanamaki’s wrist, squeezing it gently as he pulled it away. “There’s no need for idle threats. We aren’t teenagers anymore.”

Hanamaki raised an eyebrow, ripping his arm free from Oikawa’s grasp. “You think I’m just threatening you? Oikawa, you’re my best friend in this goddamn forest. But if you don’t back off and mind your own business, we _will_ have a problem, and it _will_ come to blows, and you _will_ get hurt.” A whirlwind of leaves swirled around them and the tree branches above shook as if in warning, driving his words home. “Try to tell me I’m wrong,” he challenged, staring unwaveringly into Oikawa’s face. He hoped he didn’t pick up on the tremor in his voice.

Oikawa blinked slowly, his gaze shifting slightly and turning just a little bit colder as if he closed something off. “I didn’t want it to come to this,” he sighed, thrusting his hand into Hanamaki’s face. The pink haired witch reared back in alarm, but Oikawa’s cool fingers made contact with his cheek for a split second.

That was all he needed. 

The world around Hanamaki blinked out of existence, replaced by a murky dark haze full of blindingly white lights that zipped past him at an alarming speed, like blazing meteors hurtling through space. It made him dizzy to watch and he closed his eyes against the brightness, feeling only their heat washing over his face, blistering hot and yet cool to his skin. He was alone, hanging suspended in time and space. 

He hated it. It lasted no more than a split second, but he seethed with anger. Oikawa had promised when he had first studied spatial magic that he would never use it on Hanamaki after their first failed attempt. Wind magic had been enough to deal with.

_Forgive me_? the soft words echoed against the walls of Hanamaki’s skull, the closest he would get to an apology from Oikawa.

_Not likely_ , Hanamaki snapped harshly as his surroundings flashed back into place and the world crashed upon him again. He staggered and dropped forward onto his knees, clutching his staff for support. Dormant vine tendrils that decorated the cold floor rose in greeting, wrapping over his legs in a light embrace. They tugged at his robes and he shoved them off hastily with quick swipes.

“Ah, you came,” Iwaizumi’s deep voice called from the kitchen area. He was nursing a mug of tea in one hand as he trudged over to Hanamaki and offered his free hand. “I wasn’t sure Oikawa would pull through.”

Hanamaki swatted Iwaizumi’s hand away and pulled himself upright, using only his staff for support. “You both need to learn to keep your noses in your own business,” he replied snidely.

Iwaizumi’s fingers curled into a tight fist that he clenched at his side. He took a calming breath, inhaling for a few moments before continuing. “Hanamaki, it’s been weeks. What’s done is done. You can’t just…ignore something like this.”

Actually, he could. Or, at least, he had managed to run away from it for a while already. Whine a little, edge around the elephant in the room…his skin crawled with the guilt that accompanied purposefully playing weak just to worry Oikawa. But it had kept him at bay, hovering worriedly (literally) but not pressing the matter. Until now.

“You should talk it out,” Iwaizumi suggested curtly, turning around and padding to the carved stairs that wrapped around the inner base of the tree trunk. “He’s upstairs, sleeping. Just tell me when you’re ready and I’ll let you guy’s have your space, okay?” 

Hanamaki hummed in acknowledgment as he edged closer towards the door, hands behind his back, shooing away the vines that twisted comfortingly around his feet. His hands hit the latch at the same moment sparks crackled from the wood, biting the tips of his fingers. He hissed and drew away, turning around to watch as the oak wood of the wall grew to cover the lock, protecting him from further harm. And effectively locking him inside far better than a simple lock charm.

Iwaizumi must’ve heard. “Oikawa charmed the locks,” he called dryly over his shoulder, continuing up the stairs. “It would just be easier to talk to Matsukawa.”

Hanamaki tugged at the wood that was now covering the lock, but it refused to budge. In fact, he could’ve sworn it was inching further onto the door. At least it would take Oikawa a while to fix that. 

“Fine!” he exclaimed in frustration, throwing his hands in the air. “I’ll talk to him! Happy now?” No response, from Iwaizumi or the tree. He didn’t really expect one, but at least Oikawa would’ve shot back a condescending remark. “Stupid human,” he muttered, pacing across the room wildly as he psyched himself up. “Stupid tree. Stupid Tooru. Why am I surrounded by snobby, stupid people? I’ve done nothing to deserve this.” 

_Lies_ , his younger-self whispered gleefully in his mind. The pink haired child was floating in circles in the nothingness of his mind, as he had always seen Oikawa do as a child above his head. _You’ve done so much, haven’t you? See how the trees whisper to you now? How they beckon and wave? The magic_ finally _wants to play. And it’s all our fault._ A biting laugh bubbled out.

He gripped his staff tighter, his tense knuckles pale against its dark wood. He needed to breathe, to calm down. He could feel a rising panic in his throat, which lately hadn’t brought him anything but grief. Magic was always prone to react with a witch’s level of emotion or state of mind, but Hanamaki’s magic was all over the place, mixed up and simmering just beneath his skin. He couldn’t even really call it his own. He had no control, no practice. He was scared of it.

“Focus,” he muttered, closing his eyes and drawing in a deep breath. “Think of something else.” A lazy potted plant leaned closer to wrap its leaves around his shoulder and he jumped violently away, gritting his teeth. “Not that.”

“You could think of what you’re going to say,” A hesitant voice broke his frantic thoughts, and Hanamaki was grateful despite his anger.

He turned slowly. “Tooru.”

Oikawa shrugged from where he stood, directly in front of the door. The lock was still covered by the spurt of wood. He hadn’t been able to charm it off immediately then. Good. 

“I could say sorry but I won’t,” he said quietly. _Sorry_ , his eyes screamed, _I’m so sorry._ “You may not be ready for it just yet, but Mattsun can’t wait any longer. Iwaizumi can’t make him any better.” 

“I can’t either,” Hanamaki pointed out. “But I have been, in fact, working out a solution to his problem. Which was what you so rudely interrupted.”

“You can’t just…rip it out, Makki,” Oikawa said quietly, his tone on the verge of pity. “You’re just going to end up hurting yourself, or worse.”

Hanamaki laughed bitterly. “Actually, I can just rip it out. The proof is upstairs!” He jabbed a finger to the floor above them, where he knew Matsukawa was laying in bed, probably asleep. Dying. Magicless. 

_A total accident, of course._

_Shut up,_ Hanamaki shot back to the memory that hadn’t left his head since that particular winter morning when his magic exploded.

“Mattsun’s magic will come back,” Oikawa promised sincerely, striding forward to crouch in front of Hanamaki and take his hand. He rubbed his knuckles in comfort. “Just give it a little time.”

“His magic won’t come back, and it’s all my fault!” Hanamaki whispered angrily.

“Don’t say that! You don’t know that!”

“Yes, yes I do,” Hanamaki laughed, pulling away his hand. He raised it above his head and curled his fingers. “Because now it’s mine.” Deep breath. Clear mind. A _gentle_ push of will. The treehouse groaned and shook in response.

Matsukawa’s magic. Earth magic straight from the hand of Mother Nature herself, far stronger than any Oikawa had ever been able to perform. Despite his status in their coven, Oikawa’s specialties rested in wind and spatial magic. He could coax a few sunflowers to shoot up a few inches more, to maybe shine a little brighter, but that was it. Matsukawa could grow an entire meadow with a stray thought. 

You _could_ , he corrected. _He can’t anymore._

Oikawa grabbed for the wall to steady his feet as the tree stopped shaking. “Stop that!” he snapped. “It’s not your magic. It’s just mixed in. We can figure out why later, but right now you need to help Mattsun! He’s dying, Makki. Iwaizumi doesn’t know how to make him better. The only thing we can think of is to keep him near you. Let him live with you. We’re hoping the magic that leaks off you will try to find its original home. Matsukawa.”

“Well, that’s the problem isn’t it?” Hanamaki shouted in return. “I’m like a leaky faucet that won’t shut off! What if something else happens to him? I can’t control this!” Panic had entered his voice, and the plants around them began to react.

“Calm mind!” Oikawa said shrilly. “Hanamaki, this isn’t the place to get upset!”

“I’m not upset! I’m scared shitless! And nothing you’re saying is helping!” 

A large hand dropped onto his shoulder, interrupting his panic attack and causing him to flinch and whip his head around. His wild eyes met a calm, almost lazy, gaze. 

“Ignore him,” Matsukawa advised in a soft voice. His free hand moved to cover Hanamaki’s hand so that they both gripped the wooden staff. With a firm nudge, Matsukawa guided the staff to point at the nearest plant. “His voice gets on their nerves, too. You need to tell them it’s okay.” His breath tickled Hanamaki’s ear, and he couldn’t help but notice how labored it was.

Hanamaki flicked a glance between the plant and the witch. “I-It’s okay?”

Matsukawa raised an eyebrow in amusement. “Phrase that less like a question.”

“It’s okay,” Hanamaki whispered, watching as the vines stopped growing and drooped slowly to rest on the ground. 

“A natural,” Matsukawa said with a weak smile, removing his hands and stepping back. His dark skin looked pale and his curly hair was slick with sweat. He raised the edge of his shirt to mop off his forehead. Hanamaki glimpsed clean bandages covering his chest and winced. 

Iwaizumi smacked Oikawa on the head as he passed by with towels and bowls of medicine on a tray. “Idiot. Why’d you work him up?” He scowled at Matsukawa and pointed at the couch. “Sit, or I make you go back to bed. And I’m _not_ wrestling you into bed again, so you damn well better sit. Hanamaki, stay with him, make sure he doesn’t get up. Oikawa, show me where you keep the tea.”

Oikawa submissively led him to the kitchen, leaving the other two staring at each other in a silence that stretched for a few seconds too long. 

“You don’t need to worry,” Matsukawa offered as he padded to the couch and gingerly lowered himself to a sitting position. “I don’t fancy fighting Iwaizumi again. It’s like hugging a bear, but worse.”

“You hug bears much?” Hanamaki’s voice cracked, but Matsukawa carried on like he hadn’t noticed.

“Oh, all the time. I don’t suppose you go to the mountains much? I’ve got a friend up there who was actually raised by one.” He laughed before raising a hand to his side. “I thought he was joking. He wasn’t. Mountain folks are crazy.” 

Hanamaki shuffled from foot to foot in front of the couch, grateful for the neutral topic matter. “Have you been to the top of the mountains, where the eagles and wind sprites nest? They’re even crazier out there. I know a human there that believes he can fly.”

“Can he?” Matsukawa asked curiously. 

“Nah. But he can jump,” Hanamaki allowed grudgingly.

“Human children are so strange.”

They both watched as Iwaizumi entered the room with tea. “Agreed,” Hanamaki said sagely, causing both of them to snicker.

“If you’re done laughing at my expense, I brought drinks,” Iwaizumi growled. “It calms the nerves, which is something you both need right now.” Oikawa trailed into the room behind Iwaizumi, eyes red but he was decidedly more calm. He already had a cup in hand that he was sipping on.

They thanked him quietly and accepted their own, the room once again filling with a long silence. 

Iwaizumi tapped his foot and glared at Oikawa, who refused to meet his gaze and stared at the floor. He threw his hands into the air in frustration. “Witches! How do you get anything done without humans?” He twisted and jabbed a finger at Hanamaki. “You. You owe me, remember?”

Hanamaki slurped his tea, feeling uncomfortable. “…Yes.”

“I’m the one who nursed you back to health, so yes, yes you do. I have a problem, and you’re the only one who I think can fix it.”

“I know what—“

Oikawa cut Hanamaki off. “Makki, please. Just listen. We need—“

“I know what you want.” Hanamaki rolled his eyes. “Seriously, let me finish talking. I’m not deaf, or blind. You two haven’t been very subtle.”

“Matsukawa’s dying,” Iwaizumi shot back. “It’s not something to be subtle about.”

“I’m not dying, I’m fine—“

“Shut up,” the other three said at the same time. It was Matsukawa’s turn to slurp his tea meekly.

“We don’t even know if your crazy plan will work!” Hanamaki growled. “There’s a greater chance Matsukawa would die than actually getting better!”

“We’ve thought of that,” Oikawa said impatiently. “It’s a chance we need to take. Besides, it helps you both. He knows how to control the magic and can help you. I wasn’t too confident about that, but you two proved me right just a few minutes ago. So while he helps you learn to tame it, we’ll work on getting Matsukawa his magic back.”

“What’s your plan for that?” Hanamaki asked, leaning forward and placing his mug on the table in front of him, tea forgotten.

“I have two plans, but they go hand in hand. First, I set up a bonding magic between you. It’s usually something reserved for…other things, but I’ve been reading up on it. It’s a powerful magic the humans created that connects you two together in almost every way. I’m hoping that applies to magic,” he said with a triumphant grin.

“What does ‘other things’ mean?” Matsukawa asked suspiciously.

Oikawa bit his lip and blushed. “It’s a marriage ceremony of sorts. One they rarely ever use nowadays, but I found the spell. But there’s a few…side effects.” He continued on hastily before they could question him more. “You might share thoughts, feelings, even sensations like touch or smell. You’ll probably always know where the other is. And…it's permanent. You know how humans are with their silly ‘until death do we part’ speech.” 

Hanamaki massaged his temple. He was worn out, he just wanted to sleep and never wake up. “What’s the other plan?” he asked wearily.

“We talk to the faeries." 

That woke him up. “You want to what?”

“We make a deal with them,” Oikawa pressed on firmly. “Your alchemy master had been their guest, remember? Despite being human, she was talented (“Thanks,” Iwaizumi muttered) and they never let go of talent. She’s either returned to court or she’s dead. Either way, I think she had a hand in sealing your magic, and I think the faeries also had something to do with it.”

“Why was my magic sealed? What does that have to do with anything happening now?”

“The seal broke, obviously. I think that it just wore out from you constantly attempting to call your magic. Which leads me to believe that it’s still lingering in the remnants of your magic, which is all mixed up in Matsukawa’s. So as much as Mattsun’s magic tries to escape…”

“It can’t,” Matsukawa said, thinking it through. “What kind of seal would do that? And I’m with Makki, why was his magic sealed in the first place?”

“I already asked that,” Hanamaki groaned into his hands. “Besides, who do you propose we confront? The fae still don’t like you, remember?”

“Kuroo is probably our safest bet. He plays pranks, yes, but he also listens to reason.”

“The fae don’t listen to reason at all,” Matsukawa interrupted in disbelief. “Everybody knows that. They speak in riddles and would sooner lead you into a bog to die of starvation than help you out of the kindness of their heart.”

“You don’t think I know that?” Oikawa said irritably. “That’s why we give them something in return. It’s all a game of strategy, Mattsun, just a game of chess. I intend to collect my pieces and win.”

“And how will you do that?” Iwaizumi asked warily from where he stood. He was an outsider looking in, a human stepping into a world he did not quite grasp completely. 

Oikawa waved a hand dismissively. “It doesn’t matter just yet, it won’t be for months and months. First, we need to work out the bonding magic. If,” he asked, “that’s acceptable with the two of you?”

Hanamaki’s eyes flickered to Matsukawa, who was soaked in his own sweat. His lips were almost the same pale shade as his face, and his eyes were fever bright. Hanamaki reached out a hand and gently placed it on Matsukawa’s shoulder, urging the magic beneath his skin to jump across, like static electricity. 

Nothing happened, but Matsukawa smiled in gratitude, guessing what he was trying to do. “Makki, would you marry me?” he cracked. “I’d get down on one knee but I’m a bit tired.”

“I bet you’re just dying for me to say yes,” Hanamaki shot back weakly.

Iwaizumi grimaced in distaste at their morbid humor. “It’s not an actual ceremony. They’re just rings I’ll pick up at the village next time I go around.”

“I’d better have a diamond the size of my fist on my ring or I’m getting a divorce,” Matsukawa asserted lazily. He seemed to be nodding off, his energy sapped. 

Hanamaki bit his lip and looked over to Oikawa. “Let’s do it,” he said helplessly. “It’s not like there are any better ideas.” 

Iwaizumi clapped his hands together as if finalizing the deal. “Good. Now that that’s taken care of, we need to get Mattsun into a bed. We might as well start this thing now.”

“I’ll take him to your house, Makki," Oikawa said helpfully. "You might be sleeping on the floor for the night until we get him an actual cot.”

“Do what you must,” was Hanamaki’s simple answer, watching as they disappeared from sight, leaving the room once again in silence.

 

* * *

 

Hanamaki was curled up on the floor in a nest of blankets and pillows he had dragged out from a closet when the owls began to sound. His cottage was cold and the curtain that covered the window kept blowing open, letting the silver moonlight splash into the room. Usually at this time of the night he was collecting flowers, the kind that only opened when the sun had crept out of sight, but tonight he stayed inside. He could hear Matsukawa breathing steadily on the bed beside him, and was careful not to breathe too loudly so as to disturb him. 

_One day something bad will happen,_ his memory sneered, Oikawa’s young voice warping into something ugly and dark. _A total accident, of course, but it’ll be bad. What will you do then?_

_I’ll fight,_ Hanamaki thought firmly, examining his pockmarked palm. He could feel the magic coursing in his fingertips, knew that it was waiting to leap out and play. _I’ll ask for forgiveness and I’ll learn to control it. I’ll take responsibility. I’ll make it_ better _._

“Makki?”

Hanamaki rolled over to face the bed, curling his fingers into a fist. “Yes?”

A hand fell over the edge of the bed, the same hand that had steadied Hanamaki when the magic had begun to escape as he panicked. “I’m sorry,” Matsukawa whispered. His fingers were trembling.

“What are you talking about?” Hanamaki asked wonderingly. “Nothing’s your fault.”

“It’s not yours either,” Matsukawa pointed out quietly. “And it was my magic forced upon you. I know how hard it is to tame. I’m sorry.”

Hanamaki hesitantly reached out and held the hanging hand, squeezing it in comfort. “…I’m sorry I hurt you. And I’m sorry I blew up your house.”

He could feel Matsukawa’s body stiffen before he heard him let out a hiss of pain. “Laughing hurts, sorry,” he gasped. “You didn’t exactly blow up my house. Sort of just took out its roots. And it crashed.”

“Did I take out the entire marsh?”

“You don’t know?” Matsukawa sounded surprised.

“I haven’t been back since the incident,” Hanamaki whispered, closing his eyes. “I didn’t know what I would see if I went back.”

“Ah. Well, the trees in the marsh are all connected. It’s really just one tree, but not many people know that. You took out a chunk of the trunks, but you only damaged a small area of roots. It will heal over time. And I can always make a new house. It’s my fault for living in a damn tree, anyway. I knew it was dangerous the first time Oikawa tried making a tornado a year ago.”

“You were there for that?”

“It blew right over me. I thought I was going to die. In fact, whenever I’m feeling better, I’ll help you take out his treehouse. I need revenge. Let’s just make sure he isn’t in it. It sort of hurts.”

“Sorry,” Hanamaki replied automatically, staring at the ceiling and biting his lip. 

Matsukawa squeezed his hand. “Let’s stop apologizing. What’s done is done. From now on, we’re together, right?”

“Until death do we part,” Hanamaki quoted.

“That’s going to take some getting used to.” Matsukawa snorted in amusement. “If this does work, it’s going to be really weird knowing that you know exactly when I’m using the bathroom.”

“Oh, gross. I didn’t think that far ahead.”

“It’s the first thing I thought of,” Matsukawa admitted with a pained laugh. “It was hard to focus on the conversation at hand when that’s all I could think of.”

Hanamaki laughed with him, their chuckles dying out and letting a silence fill the room that for once wasn’t awkward, but comfortable.

A few minutes trickled by as they listened to the owls outside hoot softly. “Do you…do you mind if we stay like this?” Matsukawa asked quietly. “It helps me sleep knowing someone’s there.”

“It’s fine,” Hanamaki whispered back, stroking the back of Matsukawa’s hand with his thumb. “…sleep well.” He thought Matsukawa might’ve mumbled something in return, but it was hard to catch. He took a deep breath and closed his own eyes, letting sleep overcome him with open arms.

It would be the first night he slept well in months, comforted by the warm hand holding his own.

**Author's Note:**

> i didnt edit this because im tired and i can do it later so sorry for mistakes or inconsistencies 
> 
> tumblr: kaneki-coffee  
> twitter: shironekki


End file.
